A Worthy Son
by Lia Kada
Summary: This story is mostly moments in Loki's life that have impacted who he is. He's such a beautiful and tragic and misunderstood character to me. Any sort of feedback is welcome and appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: I think I'm just writing this for fun and because I'm in love with Loki after watching Thor and the Avengers. This is just going to be a bunch of flashbacks and things that happen in Loki's life that have shaped the way he is, I think. It really could go anywhere. Feedback appreciated. x_

* * *

**A WORTHY SON**

* * *

There are good men and bad men, and among the bad exist the purposefully evil men and the haphazard, careless men. A difference between the two is that the former views the universe as their kingdom waiting to be conquered and the latter thinks the universe to be their playground, used to pass time and entertain. In each case, there is a small, lurking potential for great damage to be done. But if a man is both evil and careless, he has nothing to lose, for he has no limits and remorse. These men are capable of great, terrible things, but there are not many men like this. They are a scarcity among scarcities, but when they are released into the universe with limitless resources, unimaginable destruction will follow them.

This is the story of Loki.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: So, I think there's going to be a bunch of small stories that pertain to Loki's life, in a random order that'll eventually come together. Sorry if that doesn't make sense. Reviews are always nice! x_

* * *

**A WORTHY SON**: The Shadowed Child

* * *

There was always the looming feeling of total and utter and unavoidable and constant inferiority to Thor, ever since Loki could remember. He learned long ago that he stood no chance against Thor in physical fights but could outsmart him quite easily.

However, no one in Asgard seemed to care that Loki was smarter. After all, intelligence wasn't something you could see. King Odin was said to be so incredibly wise, but he valued Thor's brawn over Loki's brain, and frequently ignored the younger boy. There was only one place Loki could ever so briefly escape to in order to distract himself from his life in Thor's shadow - his own mind. He built up a beautiful world in his imagination; it was a world of gorgeous lies.

But, eventually, he'd have to go back to reality, and Thor in all his glory would be waiting to announce another great accomplishment of his. And everyone would gather and congratulate him, as usual. It was as though Loki didn't exist to them for a while. He tried to convince himself that he was just as loved, just as appreciated as Thor, but he could tell - he could _feel_ - that no one was ever as proud of him as they were of his brother. Who could be proud of feats of the mind? Pranks and tricks and lies and charm and pure, dry wit. That was all Loki excelled at. And no one seemed to care. But it felt as though Thor was celebrated for the smallest of feats.

It was in those moments the envious monster inside of Loki woke. He was enveloped with rage and jealousy and became capable of terrible things he never intended to do. He just wanted to be loved and appreciated and admired. It just never seemed to work out that way.

When they were children, Odin took Thor and Loki hunting. Thor quickly caught many of the strongest, most elusive creatures to bring home for dinner. Loki had not caught anything, and Odin's disappointment was hardly subtle. He hinted that Thor was destined to come out on top, saying Loki could never match up to his brother. Hurt beyond words and reason, Loki poisoned the game so that the eaters would become ill. Loki's plan worked, but the blame went to the cooks rather than the hunter of the meat. Loki was upset about this miscalculation until he saw his sick brother, and then he found that he was upset for another reason entirely; he felt _guilty_.

Guilty because Thor never meant to harm Loki. Thor was so simple-minded, so innocent. Arrogant and prideful, maybe, but almost never purposefully mean to Loki. And those rare but existent moments of guilt chastised and tamed the monster within, filling Loki with an unsettling amount of self-loathing. He would go to his brother's side and for a while, he would be genuinely happy for his accomplishments. It was those instances, the intimate moments they shared, that brought tears to Loki's eyes as he remembered how Thor taught him how to set snare traps and how to hold a sword properly, and in return Loki helped him play pranks on friends.

He tried his best to erase those few and far-between truly happy memories from his mind and focus on the majority of his life, spent in Thor's shadow, in order to justify his vengeful actions. But it was far more difficult for Loki to lie to himself than it was for him to lie to others. He discovered this the hard way.

He just wanted to be Thor's equal. He only wanted the admiration and respect his brother received - even _half_ of it would have satisfied him.

He simply wanted to escape from the shadow suffocating him and blanketing him with darkness, the black wave that stained him.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: I'm awful at updating promptly. Blame school. Anyways, let me know what you think of this! Reviews are actually really helpful. Also, prompts would be nice as well. Thanks!_

* * *

**A WORTHY SON**: The Ants

* * *

There was a moment when Loki experienced a feeling other than indifference for the humans, the ants underneath his boot.

He watched them live in the overcrowded, filthy city and wondered with an inexplicable and insatiable curiosity as to how they functioned. Loki had always been sure of their insignificance in the universe, yet they still believed that they lived with passion, with joy and love and anger and hate. And there was something metaphysical that believed in them enough to give them children and keep them living in a world that miraculously supported all seven billion of them.

Seven billion ants in a cage, and the planet trembled like a beetle on a pin, but it never fell. Life went on, and the humans, they managed.

For an instant, Loki felt an overwhelming desire to be one of them.

He immediately discarded the thought from his mind; or, he tried to. But the idea of his biggest worry being something trivial and mortal was relaxing to him. They didn't have to worry about being a monster. Being forgotten and abandoned by a race they were raised to hate. They didn't live in the shadow of a god greater than they could ever hope to be. Loki was convinced that they couldn't possibly have any real problems. They could do anything and everything and the universe wouldn't acknowledge it in the slightest. With weakness like theirs, there was the constant comfort of helplessness, knowing that whatever happened was beyond their power to change. There was an acceptance of fate in humans that gods lacked.

And he was convinced that no mortal man could hate himself as much as Loki hated himself. They led bland, empty, uneventful lives, and it was something Loki yearned for now more than ever. He would have gladly traded everything - his powers, his entire life as a god - for a monotonous human life. Because with his powers left the pain and resentment that had made him bitter, transformed him from a trickster to a villain.

Self-hatred was a burden Loki had carried for as long as he could remember, tracing back to his childhood with Thor, but it had been multiplied tenfold after he held the Casket and watched his trembling hands turn a sick shade of blue he had been raised to loathe, and then it spread up his arms and chest and his face, and his eyes became blood red and soulless, the eyes of demons. To him, it was a disease there was no cure for that left a nauseous, icy feeling deep within him he would do anything to expunge.

He was the one thing he hated the most, the very same creature he and all the kingdom's warriors had fought and killed, the monster of his own nightmares.

There was a time Loki thought that his curse was not being a frost giant, but being something immortal.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: Thanks for those who left prompts; I'll get to them, I promise, it's just that it's finals week at school, and then I'm going on vacation...But I'll write tons over vacation so don't worry! Please keep reviewing, it makes me happy! Also, heads up - after reading this chapter, please keep in mind that this isn't a romantic fic. I'm not gonna start writing any smutty Thoki. :P Feel free to leave more prompts and reviews!_

* * *

**A WORTHY SON**: Teenage Angst

* * *

When Thor and Loki were teenagers, it was already becoming painfully obvious that Thor was destined to be king. Loki tried to convince himself otherwise, but he could see right through the words of encouragement their mother would give him. He could sense in her voice the reluctance to get his hopes up, the blatantly fake smile plastered on her face to try to keep Loki's spirits up.

And he was grateful.

Angry, sad, and hurt, but grateful that they had tried, now and then, to spare his feelings.

However, Thor was becoming more and more arrogant, having won just as many women as he had battles; he suddenly became widely popular among Asgardians. The depth and darkness of his shadow was multiplied upon this revelation, and Loki began to find himself spending a lot of time by himself.

He despised this alone time.

All he could do was stare at himself, look at his thin, weak body and the reflection of his wide, hungry eyes in the mirror. He could see them growing colder, emptier. He would graze the glass with his spindly fingers, sometimes shocked that he was looking at himself. He felt like a failure, not the man born to be a king like his father promised when they were young. He could not find that person in the mirror. He felt hopelessly lost. He spent many days staring at himself in shock and in waiting, waiting for a king to emerge from within him, the great king his father promised he could be.

But he never emerged, and if he did for the briefest time - if Loki made a wise decision, helped Thor win a battle, or did something to make his father proud - Thor would do something to overshadow him before Loki even had time to be proud of himself. It took its toll on him, and he was back to vacantly staring at himself in the mirror, waiting to be something great, as tiring and disappointing as waiting for rain in a drought.

Loki was usually silent during these long, lonely hours, but one evening he found himself whispering, "You promised! You promised!" over and over again a million times into the jewel encrusted mirror, as if talking to it would make his father remember his vow that Loki was born to be a king just as much as Thor was.

"Promised what, brother?" a booming voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Thor!" Loki exclaimed, blown back by the sheer presence of his brother. His pallid face grew hot with embarrassment.

"Who were you talking to?" Thor asked, concern visible on his scarred face. The recent battle left him with wounds that marked him as brave and strong to the Asgardians. When Odin saw Loki's torn, bleeding flesh, he snidely commented on Loki's inability to fight properly.

"I wasn't talking, brother. You're imagining things; you must be tired from the battle," Loki replied immediately. "Do get some sleep."

"Very well," Thor said suspiciously, climbing into his bed. "Goodnight, brother."

Loki could hardly mutter a response before he felt a wave of shame overtake him. He felt insane talking to a mirror and it was as if the feeling was intensified by the fact that he was caught in the act. How could he be so stupid? So inept at everything he did? He slid underneath his emerald duvet and attempted, unsuccessfully, to rid himself of the burning sensation behind his eyes. But his breath was becoming uneven, and his hands were shaking-

"This can't be happening," Loki groaned before he could stop himself. He hated himself even more when he cried. He hated the feeling of weakness that was already so prominent in this life. He hated the stings, both physical and emotional.

"Loki?" Thor whispered softly.

"Leave me-" Loki began, then choked. He wanted so badly to disappear but couldn't bring himself to do anything but _burn_, burn fiercely from embarrassment and hurt and longing. He could not move. He could not speak. He could only try to keep boiling hot tears from rolling down his cheeks.

Within a split second, Loki felt a pair of firm arms around him. Thor had crawled into his bed and wrapped the trembling teenager into his grasp. Loki shook and buried his face into Thor's shoulder before he understood what he was doing, before he could fight it, and then he could contain it no longer. Salty tears freed themselves from behind his eyes and trickled down his face and onto Thor. Loki held Thor with all the strength he could muster and laughed mirthlessly when he realized that Thor was so strong Loki was like an ant to him. He felt so weak in that moment. Crying next to Thor, of all people. But for the first and last time he could remember, he thought that being weak might not be such a bad thing.

Thor didn't speak, never questioned Loki's actions that night. When Loki would choke and hiccup and heave helplessly against the mattress, Thor just held him tighter, gently pressing his lips to Loki's forehead.

As day began to break and light only just penetrated the bedroom windows, Loki's breathing finally evened, and his eyes relaxed shut, and he nestled his head comfortably underneath Thor's chin, and he slept without nightmares for the first time he could remember.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: This chapter is shorter but I think it's better this way. I'll try to make the next one longer! Meanwhile, please leave reviews/prompts? Thank you for reading. :)_

* * *

**A WORTHY SON**: Lies

* * *

Loki wasn't lying when he said he never wanted the throne. He didn't. He truly believed Thor's time to rule would come and didn't mean for him to be exiled because of a prank gone too far. He felt incredibly guilty, but was shot down by Odin the minute he opened his mouth. It opened within him a bottomless pit of blackness, of self-loathing and anger and a venomous yearning for power, for his voice to be heard.

Loki wasn't lying when he said he loved Thor. He did love his brother, dearly. He knew in his heart that Thor would one day make an excellent ruler; he just wasn't ready the day he was supposed to be made king. He honestly thought holding off Thor's rule would be in his brother's best interest, in Asgard's best interest.

Loki wasn't lying when he cried all those times; he wasn't faking his emotion. He hated crying. When he had found out that he was a monster, when he was fighting Thor...The tears were far too real for his liking.

And Loki wasn't lying, wasn't playing a trick on anyone, when he let go of the staff and fell off the bridge and into the wormhole. He thought he would plummet to his certain death. He _wanted_ death, welcomed it. He had done everything to be worthy to Odin, a man he desperately wished was his father. He had done _everything_ for him, to prove he could still be a son to him in every way that mattered. All of the lies he had told, every action he had taken, was to make Odin proud.

And then Odin said no.

No, Loki could never be Thor's equal. Not only that, but he could never do anything right. He would never make Odin proud. _No_.

So it was all for nothing. His entire existence. All of his efforts were in vain because he wasn't Thor. He wasn't Odin's son in the way it mattered. He could no longer be used to bring peace between the two realms because of Thor's decision to invade. He could no longer fit in with the Asgardians, knowing what he was.

He was a monster.

When he let go, he expected death. He wanted death.

He was hoping for death, and when he didn't die, when he _wouldn't_ die, he awoke as a disowned, unwanted creature. Someone with nothing to lose.

He decided that if he was a monster, he might as well act like one.


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note: I'm leaving for a month-long vacation soon, so I won't be able to update for awhile. But until then, I'll post a chapter a day. I've been feeling inspired lately. Also, are any of you guys getting the references I'm making about Loki "riding horses"? :P Anyways, thanks for reading, and please review and leave prompt ideas!_

* * *

**A WORTHY SON**: Abandoned, Again

* * *

In his early childhood, there was nothing Loki dreaded more than Thursday afternoons. The Thursday afternoons were a time designated by Odin to let Thor and Loki pick a certain activity they'd like to do, as long as it helped prepare them to rule Asgard, and had them spend three hours working on it. The two brothers were supposed to take turns choosing what to do, but Thor often bent the rules, much to Loki's disdain.

"Father said it was _my_ turn to decide what to do," Loki reminded Thor as they headed back to the castle after a wrestling match. Thor had insisted the match was all in good fun - "Practice for killing the Frost Giants!" - but Loki had been bruised and bloodied and was sore from head to toe. He was eager to gain some sort of dominance, and was too worn out for any of the activities Thor liked to do, so he insisted on choosing that week's activity. It was long overdue to be his turn, anyways; Thor had chosen the activity for the past three weeks simply by begging Odin until he complied and ignored Loki's reminders that it was his turn to decide. Thor always wanted to fight, whereas Loki wanted to ride horses or play pranks on the Asgardians.

"How about the first one to get to father gets to choose?" Thor said, grinning wildly. "Come on, brother! You aren't _tired_, are you?" he taunted Loki as he began to sprint towards the castle.

Loki felt anger bubble within him, quickly followed by shame. "That's unfair!" he shouted, inwardly cursing his physical inferiority. He tried to run after Thor, but his legs ached with each step and he began heaving and coughing and gasping for air, exhausted beyond comprehension. "That's- no-" he began, but his knees buckled from underneath him and his ankles twisted and rolled, unsupported, until he collapsed into a heap on the ground. Blood was still trickling down from his nose where Thor had punched him, and the warm, sticky substance and its thick metallic scent was nauseating.

Loki laid there for a while, too fatigued and sore to get up. His extremities felt leaden, and his chest felt as though someone had placed his father's hammer, Mjölnir, upon it.

He watched the sky grow dark and waited for Thor or Odin or even a guard or servant to come looking for him and tend to his wounds. He knew his father would have come running if _Thor_ were missing. If he and Thor were equals, as Odin once assured them, Loki was certain someone would come for him.

But no one came.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: This chapter is loosely based off of this post I reblogged on Tumblr - "lokiseyes -dot- tumblr -dot- com / post / 25370363329 / loki-is-our-god-omg" so I'd like to credit the OP for the idea, although there was no source credited. I'm going to try to update once more before vacation. Please leave reviews and prompt ideas? Thanks for reading. x_

* * *

**A WORTHY SON**: Little Lion Man

* * *

To Loki, time seemed to pass at an excruciatingly slow rate in Asgard. When he wasn't in the company of Thor and his friends - constantly being excluded and ignored and used as a punching bag - he would set up small pranks for Asgardians, but even the glee that came from warriors yelling and flipping tables over as snakes and other small creatures slithered out of their stuffed pigs got redundant after the umpteenth time. When he wasn't causing mischief or setting fires or riding horses, the latter of the three an activity that calmed him somewhat, he was sitting alone in the room he shared with Thor. Odin almost never sought him out; the old king preferred to be in the company of his own thoughts, and when he desired social interaction, he typically summoned Frigga or Thor.

Loki found that too much time alone caused him to think a lot more than he liked. He would recall every last detail of that day's events, no matter how tiny, that indicated Thor's superiority. Loki found there were far too many, and the thousands of minute moments would cut him like knives. He began to think of what he could have done differently to make himself more like Thor. The mental list seemed to span on to infinity.

This thought process of Loki's repeated itself day after day. Eventually, Loki began to write his feelings down, as he found his head was becoming far too cluttered and filled with hate - mainly self-hate - and jealousy. He found an old notebook and began to fill it with all of the thoughts crammed within his mind.

_Today, Sif told Thor he was the strongest person in Asgard. Thor and I are supposed to be equals. Why can't I be strong like he is? What am I doing wrong? When we run, I'm out of breath ages before he is. He can defeat me in an instant when we fight. I can only stand a chance by using my intelligence against him, but even that only works for so long. He really is quite amazing. I suppose I'm destined to be beneath him. That's an unpleasant thought, but it's probably true. I'm absolutely useless. I know Father thinks so. Every day just makes it clearer. I really do have no purpose._

Entries like that filled the pages of the notebook in no time. Each evening when Loki finished writing, he'd bury the notebook underneath a messy pile of clothes and worthless stolen relics from minor battles, almost always left untouched and abandoned on their dresser.

One afternoon, Loki was lying peacefully in the garden, watching the sky fade to a golden-pink and mindlessly transforming the gigantic, beautiful flowers into serpents, then causing the serpents to explode into flames. It was a cleansing hobby for him. He envisaged each serpent to be a reason he could never be Thor's equal, and then burned it mercilessly.

Loki imagined the first serpent to hiss, "You aren't handsome enough." Loki flicked his fingers and the ashes of the beast floated lazily downwards, dusting the verdant garden.

"You aren't strong enough," the second serpent echoed throughout Loki's mind. He grimaced before killing that one as well.

The third one approached Loki and seemed to say, "Odin doesn't love you as much as he loves Thor, and he never will." The words sounded frighteningly real to Loki, and he was too upset to snap his fingers and kill the serpent. He laid there motionlessly until the huge snakelike creature slithered on top of him, constricting him. Loki could no longer breathe, and no longer cared. All he wanted was for Odin to love him like he loved Thor-

"Brother?"

Within seconds, Thor had lifted the snake off of Loki and strangled it to death. Loki was gasping for air, only just realizing how near he was to suffocation.

"You _saved_ me," Loki stated, disgust in his voice. It was not disgust aimed at Thor, but at himself, for needing to be saved. For letting himself become so weak, so compromised by his own thoughts.

"What happened, Loki?" Thor demanded, wrapping his brother in a tight embrace. Loki instinctively inhaled Thor's scent, the unique, strong aroma that somehow always made him feel safe, and relaxed limply in his arms before coming to his senses and pushing his brother away.

"Nothing," he replied tersely. "I'm fine."

"I don't think you are," Thor said, his voice full of concern. "Brother, I read what you had written... In the notebook you keep underneath the clothes and antiquities. If this is-"

"Oh, Thor," Loki shot back before he could finish. "You don't _actually_ think that notebook is filled with my innermost thoughts, do you? How pathetic do you think me to be? I only left it where I knew you'd eventually look to trick you, Thor. I knew you'd be _stupid_ enough to fall for anything to boost your gargantuan ego," he spat, the lies flowing freely and almost automatically from him. "Congratulations on your remarkable gullibility."

Without another word, Thor turned and left.

Almost immediately, Loki felt guilty. Thor had just saved him from a giant snake, for once showing concern for his well-being, and Loki had turned him down and mocked him. And it was because he was afraid. Afraid of showing weakness, afraid of furthering Thor's dominance, afraid of the great serpents that Loki had formed within his own imagination, his own nightmares.


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: This is my last update before I go on vacation for a month, but I'll write while I'm there so I can update a ton when I get back. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, please keep the feedback coming. Oh, and the title of this chapter is a Mumford & Sons song I was inspired by. Enjoy!_

* * *

**A WORTHY SON**: The Cave

* * *

After his failed attempt to conquer Midgard, Loki was taken back to Asgard with Thor. He wouldn't have spoken or moved even if he hadn't been gagged and bound. He was too ashamed. Too upset that he had once again failed to prove himself worthy of any amount of power, that he had hurt those he cared about most. He felt broken, impure, and absolutely alone. He knew there was no way Thor could love him now. Not after everything he did. The only person he truly loved would never look at him the same way again.

Loki was the unworthy son; he always had been. There was a time he believed he had done nothing to deserve his unworthiness, but now he had truly proven himself unworthy, undeserving, reproachable, _disgusting_. Loki shut his eyes as Thor carried his weak body into the castle he had once called home. But Loki knew he didn't have a home now. He didn't want to face the people he had hurt. He drowned out their words, keeping his face buried in Thor's shoulder. He was shocked when Thor didn't shake him off like he was some sort of pest. Loki's embarrassment and shame, not only from his failure as a ruler but his failure as a brother and son, overtook him. He quavered helplessly, not seeing, not hearing, only feeling Thor's firm and steady arms around him.

When he finally opened his eyes, he was alone in a small, dark room, tucked into a comfortable bed. Loki noticed he was not in the dungeons, but in an unused bedroom with the windows covered and doors locked. He was sure it was done by magic he could not override, and didn't care. This was better than he deserved, far better. He wanted to rot away, alone, forever, and even that fate would be far too kind. He wanted to feel the pain he had caused everyone else, he wanted to ache a thousand times worse than he had ached his whole life, being a failure, being unimportant, being _second_-

The door swung upon, and Odin stood with a steely expression on his face. Loki glanced up at him for a moment, but couldn't bring himself to maintain eye contact for more than a few seconds. Odin's glare was unflinching, and Loki could feel it. It caused his insides to writhe uncomfortably, and Loki almost felt his eyes begin to sting before he blinked and breathed in deeply.

"Thank you," Loki whispered, barely able to look at Odin's shoes. Facing the man he had done everything to please, the man who thought Loki was a disappointment, and rightly so...It was difficult.

"Don't thank me. Thank Thor. And apologize to him as well," Odin replied gruffly. Before Loki could ask him what he meant, the door slammed shut with a noise loud enough to cause his ears to ring.

_Thor. Thor must've been the one to convince Odin to spare me, to not throw me in the dungeons and torture me like I so deserve_, Loki realized. _But why?_

He covered his face with his hands and let the tears fall, let himself fall to the ground and scream and cry and shake, before he could stop himself. He had been so cruel to Thor, with all of his lies and plans. He couldn't fathom why he had spared him like this. His tears were a mixture of regret and anger - anger at himself, for not suffering like Thor suffered.

Suddenly, someone's hands were on his shoulders, and Loki pried his wet, slimy hands from his face to see Thor squatting before him, looking down on him with tenderness and concern and _sympathy_, something that caused him to gasp.

"Why?" Loki whispered as Thor hoisted him up and held him close, pressing their bodies together for what could have been an eternity; Loki found himself selfishly unwilling to let go. "I did you wrong, so wrong-"

"But so did _I_, brother, don't you see?" Thor said desperately. "I did you wrong, all these years. When I asked you, all those months ago, what I had done to cause you to send the Destroyer to Midgard and lie to keep me from Asgard, I was ignorant of the way I treated you, the way I constantly made you feel inadequate and-"

"Stop it," Loki pleaded, his voice muffled in Thor's shoulder. "I don't want to think of that. I don't want to think of anything at all. I deserve so much worse than this."

"I understand why you did what you did!" Thor exclaimed, holding Loki's face in his hands. "I owed you this kindness. I understand why you didn't want me in Asgard, brother-"

"I'm not your brother. I'm a _monster_!" Loki yelled. "Laufey's son!"

"You're right about not being my brother, but I know you. You are no monster, Loki," Thor asserted adamantly.

"You saw what I did, how I acted-"

"They were the actions of someone who had spent his life in a shadow and had just begun to glimpse the sunlight."

"Why are you doing this?" Loki asked angrily. "I'm unworthy!"

"I was unworthy once, do you not remember?" Thor reminded him.

Loki said no more, but lifted up his unsteady fingers to wipe away the tear that had stained Thor's cheek.


End file.
